Of Dislocation and Massages
by equine02
Summary: Bones dislocates his shoulder and Jim is there to help when he panics. Sequel to Chrisii's "Of Exhaustion and Massages." Check it out, it's one of my favs. Non-slash. Enjoy! Set after Star Trek Into Darkness, before Beyond.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! This is my first fanfic, so please be nice and leave a review if you get ye chance (just no flames)! I had no beta, so all mistakes are completely mine. All credit goes to Chrisii; the original story is her idea, and I am writing a sequel to it. Please check out her fanfic, "Of exhaustion and massages." It'll help you understand the plot and circumstances if you do, though it is not essential to understand this story. Enjoy.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Star Trek characters, just having fun with them. They belong to Paramount, I believe. Correct me if I'm wrong. I don't make any money off this.**

Leonard McCoy had had a long day.

Now he sat alone in Medbay, inside the little space that the privacy screen permitted, with Chekov. The kid slept quietly on his side, an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth, and an IV in the back of his right hand. Bones swept hair out of his eyes and leaned forward, staring at the prone figure. Chekov had been doing so well… he'd even been released from Medbay. But last night he'd suffered from a panic attack, after which he'd collapsed, and he hadn't come out of it yet.

Bones heaved in a breath and stood up. A rush of exhaustion and sudden memory hit him, and he groaned. The engineers still hadn't fixed that broken biobed. It had stopped working several nights ago, and Bones hated having his equipment out of order for long periods of time, lest he need it.

The doctor stood up and limped tiredly over to it, kneeling.

The workings of the biobed were complex, but not to someone who had studied chromosomes and cells, nerve transmissions, and heart and brain functions. Bones was a genius, even if he didn't know it, and that was enough to aid him in finding the problem. A simple wiring malfunction, probably caused by the old age of the equipment. Next time they docked at a star base, he'd have it professionally fixed.

Fixing the thing for temporary use was easy enough. But just when Bones thought he had done it correctly, he must have hit something, and the bed fell. The weight of it combined with his angle caused a horrific crack, and Bones cried out, head hitting the ground. His world went out of focus.

When Dr. M'Benga entered Medbay to take over for his shift, he hardly expected to be put straight to work. Upon arriving, he didn't see McCoy anywhere.

"Leonard?" he peeked into the CMO's office. It was dark and empty, a cold cup of coffee sitting on the desk.

"Len?" He peeked into the curtained enclosure where Chekov lay. The kid looked so pale, so skinny. His breaths were shallow and he was running a temperature; he must be dreaming. M'Benga picked up a hypo and administered it, and almost immediately the boy's chest rose in a contented breath, and he slipped into a peaceful sleep.

"Leonard McCoy, where the heck are you?" he whispered to himself.

Exiting the curtained area, he lay eyes on one of the most surprising things he'd seen since boarding the Enterprise.

"Dr. McCoy!" he knelt down to check the unconscious man's pulse. It was there. Sluggish, but there.

Twenty minutes, four nurses, one worried Jim, and seven hypos later, McCoy was laying on a diagnostics table, eyelids fluttering. His fingers were twitching, which was, according to M'Benga, a sign of an imminent return to consciousness.

"Bones, can you hear me? Bones, hey, wake up. You've got quite a lump on the head, not to mention-"

But before Jim could explain about Bones' shoulder, said doctor shot up into sitting position. But he didn't stay that way; his shoulder jolted, and he cried out, falling hard on the table.

"Sorry, Len. Couldn't give you any anesthesia or sedatives. You were out a while, and I didn't want to risk sending you into a coma. Plus, you're so pumped full of meds for the swelling and nausea from your concussion, I just can't chance anything else. But thankfully the meds I gave you have some painkillers." M'Benga sighed. McCoy froze.

"Nausea? Coma?" McCoy asked slowly disoriented, "what nausea?" he slowly lifted his head, and winced. "Oh. That nausea."

Jim would have laughed had Bones' face not been so pain-ridden.

"Listen, Len, I'm gonna make this fast, but that won't change how painful it's going to be. Got it?

"Yeah." McCoy swallowed, shifting. His face was so white.

Jim took Bones' good hand and squeezed lightly. "As hard as you need to Bones. Squeeze as hard as you need to." Bones was pale and sweaty. He was trembling.

"Ready?"

"No."

M'Benga glanced at Jim, who he thought had clearly said, "no."

"No, Dr. M'Benga. Could I have a moment?" he glanced at the two other attending nurses. "Alone?"

"Yes Captain, of course. Tell me when you're ready." They took their leave.

"Bones? You okay?"

"No." he whispered.

"What's eating you? You aren't usually like this. Usually I'm the baby." He smiled. "C'mon, tell me... what happens if I go stuff a pumpkin pie in my mouth."

"You wouldn't!" McCoy groaned when he moved, "who would save you when you go into cardiac arrest?"

"That's just it Bones. You wouldn't be there to save me from an allergic reaction, and so I would die. Don't you get it? N,o? I trust you with my life. My _life_ , okay? That's a big deal." Jim shrugged. "I do care, Bones."

Jim stood up and covered the shivering doctor with a blanket, and patted him awkwardly on the shoulder. Bones leaned in to the touch, and soon Jim Kirk found himself messaging Bones stiff muscles, avoiding the injured shoulder, of course.

He gave him a few minutes, finishing the massage. "Are you ready? We shouldn't leave it too long like this."

"Yeah, Jim. I guess I am. Thanks for...Damnit man, don't hug me!"

M'Benga, looking curious, entered again. "You're ready, Doctor McCoy?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Good. On the count of three. One…." M'Benga flashed Jim a look, "Len, what's your favorite color?"

"Arghhhhhhhhh!" Bones screamed through his teeth, and the sound of his shoulder popping back into place resonated around the room. Jim looked down at his hand.

"Bones, I think you broke it." Was all he said. Through gritted teeth came an answer.

"Don't be a baby, Jim."


	2. Chapter 2

**And here is another chapter, since I realized it would be a good idea not to leave Chekov on the brink of coma without helping the poor kid out. Here's what happened next… But I still don't own them. Too bad for me.**

After M'Benga put McCoy's arm in a sling, explaining that it would be best if he kept it still for a while, he ordered him to go get some sleep.

"And you know I don't mean in some chair with that Ensign Chekov. The kid will be fine. You need to sleep in a proper bed, so you don't risk damaging anything."

Jim, who was rubbing his chin thoughtfully, feeling the results of several days with no shaving, spoke up, "I'll stay with the kid for a while. My shift starts in like, an hour. Go to bed, Bones."

"But Jim- "

"Damn, Bones. You're as bad as me. Shut up and go to bed. I'll see you later." He pushed him as gently as possible out the Medbay doors. A passing Lieutenant looked a bit worried as McCoy simply stood there, looking disheveled and drunk on exhaustion.

"Doct- "

"Oh, go to bed." He trudged off down the hall, swearing softly.

In Medbay, M'Benga was trying to convince Jim that he didn't need to stay for Chekov.

"Well, it's my fault he got captured down there. I'm the captain, Doctor. I'm giving you an order to allow me to stay. Now unless Pavel is going into cardiac arrest, I am allowed to enforce that order with any means I might find necessary." He looked pointedly at a redshirt walking past, who shrunk away pitifully, saying something about breaking their nose. M'Benga rolled his eyes, but eventually gave in, striding away to tend to the redshirt's crooked nose.

"Hey, Pasha." Jim sat down next to the kid. The biobed stats were regular, if not a little slow, as Chekov was in a deeply sedated sleep. "We missed you on the bridge today. Uhura is making you all sorts of chocolate desserts, most of which I am…. Unfortunately, allergic too. Uhura thought that was pretty funny. So I hacked into her shower systems so that instead of plain old boring water, chocolate infused replicated water would come out. She's gonna murder me tomorrow. When you- "he stopped, looking up. Chekov's still-bruised eyes were closed, but something told him to keep talking, "-when you wake up, I'll teach you how to hack into the system. Though… you probably already know how. Wait a minute." Something dawned on him, "so _you're_ the one who replicated my pillow out of rock. You little trickster. I shall avenge! Next thing you know you'll be swimming through your cabin full of oatmeal, mark my words," he laughed softly. Changing the subject, he went on to talk about Pavel. "You know, when I met you at the academy, I thought you were Scotty's little brother, visiting from somewhere. I thought 'how cute, they got the kid a whole suit too.' But when you went to the front of that classroom and made that teacher look dumb as a raisin, with that Russian accent. Damnit, that was great. Captain Pike used to say you were more of a genius 'cause you didn't know it." Jim's gaze threatened to wander as he thought about his dead mentor. He didn't ever think about him if he had to. Memories of his surrogate father were dimmed in his mind because he chose to leave them that way, afraid of the regret he'd feel if he stirred them up, or the others he might hurt because of that regret.

"Do you meez heem?" a raspy voice asked. Pavel had taken off the oxygen mask, and Jim wasn't sure how long the Russian had been awake.

Shocked at the color of Pavel's eyes, a deep rich greenish-hazel he'd never seen before that transfixed him, he could only answer, "Sometimes. Sometimes I only remember him."

"Ze memories, zey are good or bad?"

"Both."

"But you sink you failed heem, keptan, don't you?"

"I guess I do, Chekov."

They were quiet, bold green staring into fiery blue.

"You really sink I am a genius? "

Jim could only smile.

Bones woke slowly, stretching till his good arm hit something hard, which proved to be an old earth alarm clock he just hadn't been able to part with. Upon realizing that his other arm would not move, and was overcome with uncomfortable stiffness, he remembered the previous day. Groaning, he hit the alarm clock, which, true to its name, was blaring away.

"Ole faithful," he gasped, hitting it with a balled fist.

"Medbay to McCoy. Dr. McCoy, report."

Grumbling, he rose up and whacked the comm, "McCoy, whatsup?"

"I don't know if you are, but Chekov sure is. Come on down when you don't sound like you're going to die." _Jim._

"Yessir. Rightaway." He shrugged on his shirt carefully, avoiding his bad arm, and took off to Medbay. By the time he got there, Chekov, still a little weak, was drinking a shot of Vodka.

McCoy took it out of his hands and walked past him in one movement, saying, "Good morning. Jim, what's wrong with you, giving the kid Vodka at six in the morning? Chekov, don't ever scare me like that again. Jim, you are also late for your shift." All in monotone, of course.

"Здравствуйте доктор! Ты в порядке? Что случилось с твоей рукой? Спасибо за спасение моей жизни !"

"I don't speak gibberish, kiddo." McCoy hypoed Chekov, who flinched and looked rather offended.

"He said, 'Hello Doctor. Are you okay? What happened to your arm? Thanks for saving my life. And you're rude." Uhura strode in, followed by Sulu and Spock.

"Hi, sweetheart. Nice dress." She rolled her eyes; she was wearing the same dress he'd seen her in for the last three years.

"Mr. Chekov, I trust you are functioning adequately?" Spock's angled eyebrow rose to uncharted heights. "You seem…well." The Russian only grinned.

"You mean drunk. Mr. Stupid over here gave him Vodka for midnight snack _and_ breakfast. Poor kid's gonna have a beautiful hangover."

Jim pouted for a moment while Sulu said hi to Chekov and the two were soon speaking rapidly about something obviously in the 'only geniuses understand' category.

After being questioned about his sling, McCoy recounted last night's events, Jim adding theatrical perks along the way, such as blood, and severe hallucinations. After a while, he presenting a matter most pressing to him.

"Well, I'm very glad this is turning into such a party, but I for one am missing the alcohol aspect… "

"If you even think about it, I'll hypo you so hard you won't need alcohol!" Bones threatened from behind a cup of coffee. Just then, Medbay's doors slid open, and Scotty, followed by Keenser, entered.

"I heard there was a 'bio bed needin' ta be fixed hereabouts?"

Everybody groaned.

 **Please review!**


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